


You are a Memory

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anger, Brother-Sister Relationships, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Hurt Ahsoka Tano, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Temporary Amnesia, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: The healers are rightfully hesitant to tell the chosen one his padawan doesn’t remember him, even if it’s technically only temporary.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	You are a Memory

**Author's Note:**

> I adore how this turned out :) I want more amnesia fics

The healers looks as tense as she feels. That’s saying something considering the teen doesn’t have a memory eligible in her brain, even something as little as her own name. 

Well, she knows it now. They’d told her it was Ahsoka Tano when she couldn’t answer the question herself, but even so the name doesn’t jog any memories and she’s not quite sure if that fact is depressing or a misplaced blessing.

The rigidness of her caretakers had originally made her already frightening situation burn with fear. It wasn’t until she realized they weren’t in fact worried about her recovery, rather they were petrified of relaying her condition to her master.

The word master and it’s normal connotations brought a torrent of negative feelings which they hastily assured. She wasn’t enslaved, and her master in fact was her teacher, her guardian.

Their dull and dictated words made his role as her master seem unimportant and formal. Ahsoka could tell him and potentially their pairing was anything but bland if they were so worried about his reaction to the situation.

“Does he seem upset?” A younger healer asked, her pale violet eyes imploring her for information Ahsoka doesn’t know how to access let alone give, so she scrunches her nose and apologetically shrugs.

The young woman looks disappointed and Ahsoka holds back the quip it was stupid for the girl to ask her of all people who doesn’t have a memory to her name, but she refrains. They are keyed up enough and her own feelings would likely only get worse while trapped in their environment.

They weren’t going to let her out of here without a chat with her master which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon considering they were actively keeping him out with guards positioned and the doors locked.

Perhaps she should feel afraid that this much security and hassle was going into her care but if anything, the girl felt assured. 

At this point she was almost tempted to ask for her master and get this over with.

“You really don’t feel him?” The older, seemingly more composed, if only by a little bit, questioned. 

There’s a theory behind her eyes, and the yellow woman sighs as she comes to a conclusion, looking more forlorn than Ahsoka is comfortable with.

The girl shook her head, at the moment not truly understanding what the girl meant before she felt something.

At first she wanted to say it felt like a ghost but that was merely because it seemed like some sort of being.

It was blocked, as if he was shoved behind a wall that overlapped a previous one. One that was normal, but this new wall had no door such as the last did to let whatever in. It was forced up with no brackets or no way for her herself to pull it down since she had no part in putting it up.

But whoever was there was trying, just like her, to tap and find the weak spots. To conjure whatever had put the wall up and demand it’s reasoning for this interruption, but to no avail. They were both coming up empty.

She could not reach her hand through the barrier and grip who she now could positively assume was her master’s hand and ask him for assistance.

Guidance and clarity he likely had which for the time being she did not. She couldn’t ask him in her head, but maybe in person she could.

Maybe if he was physically closer he could topple that wall, rip out the memories seated beneath it, lost to even herself. Would it be so wrong for him to even try?

Was he angry at the healers or her for being in this situation? She didn’t know enough for a fair assessment, but his presence, even while barricaded didn’t seem particularly threatening, at least not to her.

Would they let him in if she asked? Would she be risking their safety if they did? Would she be risking her own?

All of it seemed to make sense but it also seemed willingly outlandish, as if her mind was berating her thoughts even when it had no prior experience to relate to, let alone mock her current thought processes for.

“Your attacker did put a rather strong block for it to have not only taken your memories but also damper your bond with your master,” they look at her expecting her to be upset and maybe more afraid than she had been when she’d woken in an unfamiliar place with nothing to comfort her.

Ahsoka is tired of being on edge, “Did I win?”

“Win what?” The younger woman asked, and Ahsoka looks to the chair beside her with two configured pieces of metal she intrinsically knows are weapons. Her weapons. And if she’d been attacked and it has already been established she has the tools to fight back; she must be a warrior or soldier of some kind.

“The fight, did I win the fight?” Ahsoka explains, she may have a mental roadblock keeping her in...medical bay? But there weren't any physical injuries on her person. A scuff on her montrals from hitting the ground when she apparently passed out from the mental assault, but for now if anyone looked at her they’d have no indication of her being broken or tampered with in anyway.

The two women look at her in shock before the older woman rolls her eyes and makes a face that clearly tells Ahsoka the woman doesn’t know why she is surprised. She must be what the healer calls a nuisance, or even a hooligan. 

She’s hard pressed to hold back a slight giggle, but her curiosity is nonetheless earnest.

“No, no you didn’t,” the woman says evenly, holding back irritation and maybe the tiniest bit of rage before her attention is brought to the sudden bang against the door that sends them all an inch into the air.

White brows that are really just the girls facial markings pull together as the two pieces that keep the door as one are forced apart. By hands and a forceful energy that has her spine tingling with adrenaline.

The doors finally pop and a man, probably around five or so years older than herself rushes in. The way his face is pinched and the bags sit under his eyes, she wonders if people mistake him for someone much older because at some angles as he rushes in he looks it.

“Ahsoka,” her name on his lips immediately distinguishes him as the man on the other side of the wall, she’d already known but it was the name that really sealed the idea in her thoughts.

“Master,” it’s an instinctually and intuitive reply, she still doesn’t know his name, and they probably should have told her because he looks even more upset with the title coming from her mouth.

His eyes pierce her being as he looks her over, nervously the girl gives a timid and hopefully reassuring smile that has him faltering and his lips pulling into a mirroring one. 

Once he’s certain there is nothing on the surface marring her, he’s ducking forward and pulling her into an embrace.

Something pangs at the back of her head that this isn’t quite normal, but her body acts eagerly to hold back.

She’d needed a hug after her fright, and she was still uncertain about so much, but she felt safe and a lot less lost in his arms. 

It’s obvious as he turns his head away from the tops of her montrals that he’s about to tear into her handlers, and Ahsoka knowing the truth will come out pulls away. 

Idly noticing a ginger man was also making his way into the room, looking at her master wearily but ultimately not frightened like the rest.

As if the man had accepted the world would soon go up in flames and he had an extinguisher at the ready when it inevitably did. 

Pulling her knees to her chest, Ahsoka watched as her master’s jaw tightened and his eyes locked onto the main healer.

“I’d like an explanation as if to why I wasn’t allowed to see my supposedly injured padawan until now?” It’s an accusation, he’s not asking, he’s demanding an answer. 

“Anakin,” the ginger man bemoans, stepping closer, he turns to her for a second, offering a smile that alludes to an inside experience that at the moment she doesn’t quite get but feels she will soon enough.

“She is injured,” Rig Nema states bluntly, both men immediately shifting their attention back to Ahsoka, again looking for an injury they couldn’t quite see.

Anakin’s presence at the other side of the wall presses, hands pumping at brick. 

Ahsoka wonders if they want her to explain with their expectant looks, but she doesn’t know how to, or more accurately how to say she is somehow cut off from a magical bond and didn’t even know his identity and name until this nameless red headed man she should also supposedly know said it.

“Her attacker put a mental wall up, it’s sealed her memories and is currently dampening your bond,” she explained curtly, hands wringing together in a manner that is supposed to look regal and contained but fails enough that Ahsoka can tell displays her nervousness to even the most aloof of persons.

“Will she get them back?” The ginger man asks eloquently, the most put together person she’s seen all day, as her master’s eyes are closed tightly if only for a moment before he’s looking back at her. She can’t take his scrutiny so she purposely buries her head in her knees.

It’s not like they needed her to say anything anyway, they were working it out amongst themselves, ginger-beard-man taking charge as her master was as still as a statue.

“We believe so, just as long as we figure out how to collapse the wall that has been put up,” 

The Anakin in her head is ramming against the wall in the same way he’d been assaulting the room’s door. Her inner fingers might as well be bleeding as she pulls at her side as well.

“Is she discharged?” Anakin’s voice startled them all, it is low and it is enough to have the young togruta peeking up from her knees. 

“For now yes, no missions until we figure this out though,” the woman sighs, handing a data pad over to him for him to sign.

“C’mon snips, you should get some sleep,” he doesn’t look back at her but she knows he’s speaking to her, so gingerly she follows. 

Hugging to herself and staying just a step behind as he leads her to what she would have assumed was her room if not for his name being on the plaque above the control panel.

 _Skywalker_.

A small piece of the wall chips but it is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

“But...this is your room,” he startles, seemingly excited about her knowledge of that fact but her gentle indication of the plaque has his excited lilt faltering until it is no more. She regrets saying anything.

“I’m going to go find who did this, I want you to stay here in my quarters while I do so,” it’s an instruction that holds to reserved anger, anger that makes Ahsoka wish she knew him better so she could really appreciate just how much care her master had for her that he could be so angry on her behalf.

“Yes master,” even her compliance seemingly irks him, waves of upset waft off him and she feels a lot like crying. Regretting her wish of getting this remeeting over with even when that wasn’t what happened. Anakin had busted down the door and here they were, both upset and disappointed.

Looking down, tears filled her eyes, and she’s instantly surprised when she’s tugged into another embrace. His hand sweeping over her back head tail soothingly and she practically purrs at the contact. 

Needing it almost desperately.

“It’s okay Ahsoka, I’m going to fix this, okay?” She can feel him looking at her but she doesn’t want to move away from her spot in his chest. Afraid the minute she lets go everything will fall out from under her feet yet again.

He must understand because he waits, the minutes, potentially hour it takes for her to feel comfortable enough to let go. 

A blanket is wrapped around her shoulders and he tucks her into bed, giving her a warm smile that actually brings her real hope that she will be whole again. 

“Sleep tight Ahsoka,” she does, her last thought before her consciousness slips is that no matter how lost her memories are, she is still cared for. 

* * *

When the girl wakes, she is Ahsoka Tano yet again, and the bond in her head is sparkling and strong.

There is no impediment from someone that is not herself, and her memories are tinged with fondness.

Anakin looks up from the couch, exhausted but seemingly relieved, she doesn’t know if he killed the man or not, nor does she care.

“Morning Skyguy!”

“Morning Snips,”

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


End file.
